


An Ode to Long Johns

by justa_reader



Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justa_reader/pseuds/justa_reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a day of sledding, Blaine and Kurt settle in to a quiet house for hot chocolate. But then Kurt strips down to his long johns and Blaine can't possibly control himself when all of Kurt is <i>right there</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ode to Long Johns

**Author's Note:**

> Men in long johns are just plain hot, OK?

A rush of warm air wafts over Blaine’s cold cheeks and chin as they walk into the Hummels’ entryway.

“I can’t believe you talked me into a _fourth_ toboggan run,” Kurt says, shutting the front door behind them. His voice is tinged with the lighthearted tone that marked their conversations all afternoon, and he stomps his snow-laden boots on the hallway rug.

“Please. You loved it,” Blaine replies, turning around to face Kurt. They’d spent a long and enjoyable day tobogganing and ice skating at Enderis Park. The lines at the toboggan runs had been long--it had been one of those clear, bright and beautiful winter days. But Kurt’s giddy smile and the delight in his eyes as they sped down the swift track made Blaine want to go again and again.

“That I did.” Kurt reaches for Blaine’s arm and pulls him close. He places a long kiss on Blaine’s cool, dry lips. The brisk air still clings to their jackets, creating a cool bubble around them as they press their cold faces close. They kiss for a while. Hands on each other’s biceps, enjoying the easy movement of their lips together. Kurt finally pulls back. “Brrrr. Let’s get out of these cold clothes,” he says.

They hang up their coats and hats, all a bit damp from the last toboggan run when their sled had overturned at the bottom of the hill. Then they pry off their snowy boots and set them near the heat register before heading into the Hummels’ kitchen.

The house is dark and quiet. Burt and Carole are in Washington, D.C. They’d flown out the day before, ahead of the presidential inauguration festivities later in the month. Kurt gets the milk jug out of the refrigerator and sets it on the counter, his hand reaching up for the saucepan. “Hot chocolate?” he asks.

“Of course.” Blaine moves to Kurt’s side as he pours the milk into the pan and sets it on the stove. Kurt starts to stir the warming liquid with a wooden spoon. Blaine shuffles in closer and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist. “I’m still so cold,” he says. Blaine presses his body tight along Kurt’s back, trying to soak up his body warmth. He closes his eyes and sinks into the closeness. There are few things in the world he likes more than cuddling with Kurt.

“It’s probably those wet jeans.” Kurt turns his head back toward Blaine, flicking his gaze down to Blaine’s jeans, which are, indeed, quite wet. He places a quick kiss on Blaine’s nose. “You probably should take them off.”

Blaine pulls his head back and lets out a low laugh. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get me naked?” he asks. 

Kurt sets down the spoon, balancing it across the top of the saucepan, and turns around. “Maybe a little.” He smirks as he settles his hands low on either side of Blaine’s waist. “But I also know you’ll never warm up if you don’t get out of all those wet clothes.” He brings one hand to run up the side of Blaine’s face and into his hair. He looks at Blaine with that fond expression Blaine so dearly loves, then leans forward to leave a swift kiss on his cheek. “Now, scoot. I need to keep stirring this milk or it’ll scald. Stop distracting me and go upstairs to change into something dry.”

“Fine.” Blaine places a parting kiss on Kurt’s lips. “Since you’re making me hot chocolate, I’ll listen.”

Blaine leaves the kitchen, looking back to see Kurt return his attention to the stove. He ascends the stairs and flicks on the light in Kurt’s old room. It’s now the guest room, but to Blaine, it’ll always be Kurt’s room. Everything may look different, the decor is now decidedly more to Carole’s taste, but when the lights are off and they’re getting ready to go sleep, it still feels like Kurt’s room. The angles and light are the same they always were. It’s comforting, the way so much can change, yet the structure of the past remains the same. And this room holds many good memories for Blaine. It was where they started sharing kisses and first touches over algebra homework. It was where they watched movies, and didn’t watch movies; where they talked about dreams and doubts for the future. It was where, after a year of living together in New York, they finally convinced Burt to let them sleep together, with the door closed. It was where they now returned for visits as husbands.

Blaine strips off his jeans and takes a pair of sweatpants from the dresser. After he pulls them on, he grabs a pair of thick socks, removing his damp ones, and wiggles his toes into the thick carpeting, feeling it tickle against his cold, bare feet. Then, socks in hand, he pads back down the stairs barefoot, already feeling a bit warmer. He quickly rounds the corner from the dark stairway toward the kitchen and stops in his tracks, his breath hitching. _Holy shit_. 

Kurt is standing at the stove, leaning his weight onto one arm, his hand resting on the countertop as he stirs the warming milk. The stove’s overhead light casts a soft glow and there’s a serene look on his face, his mouth turned up in the ghost of a smile. But that isn’t what causes Blaine’s gait to falter. Oh, no. While Blaine was upstairs, Kurt had rid himself of his own wet jeans, and is now standing at the stove wearing a pair of light-gray long johns. Tight, skin-hugging, light-gray long johns.

Blaine takes a moment to appreciate the view. The tightness here, looseness there does amazing things for Kurt’s lower body. It shouldn’t. No one should look so good in long underwear, for goodness sake. But Kurt does. His legs appear even stronger swathed in the waffle-textured fabric. His thighs toned, his calves angular. And the outline of his cock and curves of his ass are right there, the pants clinging so closely to the shapes it is almost obscene. Even the knobs of his knees look sexy.

Kurt turns his head. “What’s up?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Blaine walks into the kitchen, snapping his mouth closed when he realizes it’s gaping open. “You look amazing.”

Kurt lets out a sharp laugh, extending a thermal-clad leg in front of him and looking down at it. “In long johns? Really?”

Blaine moves in close. “Yes, really.” He brings one hand to Kurt’s hip and leans up to place a kiss under his ear. ”It’s like you’re all legs and cock and ass. _Jesus_ , Kurt.”

Kurt smiles. It’s that embarrassed-flattered toothless grin that is one of Blaine’s favorites. “Please. You’re just horny. They’re _long underwear_ , Blaine.”

“Whatever,” Blaine says, crowding in closer, as if that will help make his point. “And you’re rocking them.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes as he turns off the burner and grabs the saucepan handle. He pours the milk into two awaiting mugs, stirring in the cocoa powder as he pours. He sets the spoon aside and finishes off one of the mugs with a swirled dollop of whipped cream.

“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not going to let you distract us from the hot chocolate.” Kurt pushes the whipped-cream-free mug in Blaine’s direction. He grabs the other one and rounds the kitchen island to perch on a tall stool. “This is the good chocolate powder. It shouldn’t go to waste.” As he sits down, he flicks his tongue down to the whipped cream, lopping off the pointed tip and bringing it into his mouth. He smiles, and holds Blaine’s gaze.

Blaine feels his heart start to beat faster at the mischief in Kurt’s expression. He clasps his own mug and moves to sit on a stool next to him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a brief sip, just enough to leave a thin line of chocolate across his top lip that he licks off with a quick pass of his tongue.

It is the good hot chocolate. Blaine holds the mug in both hands and closes his eyes, feeling its pulsing warmth against his palms. He turns his body to face Kurt and brackets his knees on either side of one of Kurt’s legs, so he can scoot in closer. He continues to hold the mug close to his face, and allows himself to simply enjoy the scent of chocolate under his nose and the quiet closeness of Kurt doing the same thing.

“I’m glad you suggested the sledding hill,” Kurt says, breaking the comfortable silence. “It has been years since I’ve been sledding.”

Blaine smiles, then takes a long sip of hot chocolate and sets his mug down on the counter.

“Me, too,” he replies. “It seemed like the perfect thing to do before heading back to New York. The hills there are so crowded. And there’s just something unique about an Ohio sled hill.”

“All the hunter-orange winter wear?” Kurt jokes.

“I’m serious.” Blaine continues. “I like doing this kind of stuff because I wish we’d had the chance to in high school. Doing it now somehow fills in all those holes.”

Kurt nods. “It’s easier now, isn’t it?” he says solemnly.

Blaine looks at his husband. He’s pink-cheeked and smiling, but his eyes whisper a sadness for all the years they couldn’t feel comfortable spending a glorious day together on an Ohio sledding hill.

“It is.” Blaine returns the small smile. “Thank goodness it is.” He reaches his hand out and tenderly cups his palm to Kurt’s face, lightly stroking his cheek. “We made it through, honey.” Blaine leans forward and places a kiss on Kurt’s lips, holding their lips together for several beats, not deepening the kiss. He pulls back slightly but keeps their faces close. “We’re still making it through together.”

Kurt grins at him, then hops off his stool and quietly heads to the living room. The movement gives Blaine another look at Kurt in those long johns. Damn. He’d momentarily forgotten those legs, and he stares, agape, at his husband’s round ass and strong thighs. Is he just imagining things or did Kurt add a little extra hip action to his walk?

The sounds of Nina Simone start filtering into the kitchen as Kurt returns. He meets Blaine’s gaze and holds it. The smile still is there but the look in his eyes is no longer wistful; it’s heated. So, not imagining that extra hip shimmy.

Kurt perches back up on the stool with a smooth leap and reaches for his mug. “Let’s finish these off then shall we?”

They drink the rest of their hot chocolates in relative silence through one song, then two, swaying to the music and knocking their knees together, occasionally trading a recollection from the day. ( _Remember the little girl with the floppy red hat and pigtails?_ Kurt says. _And her dad who couldn’t skate?_ Blaine responds. _That’ll be you someday._ Kurt says. Blaine swats him.) Blaine finishes his drink just as the strains of “Ne Me Quitte Pas” kick in. He hops off his stool and extends a hand to Kurt, who’s licking the last bit of chocolate off his lip, and with a gentlemanly bend at the waist, he beckons, “dance with me?”

Kurt takes his hand and slides from the stool. They move a few feet from the kitchen island and come together in practiced ease. Kurt’s arms wind around Blaine’s shoulders; Blaine’s move around Kurt’s waist. They hold on tight and settle their heads close.

_Ne me quitte pas_  
_Je t’inventerai_  
_Des mots insensés_  
_Que tu comprendras_

“I love dancing with you,” Blaine murmurs into Kurt’s ear.

“And I love being danced with by you,” Kurt replies. Blaine’s responding chuckle resonates through both their chests.

They’re barely dancing, really. They’re slowly swaying. Clinging. Cherishing. The warmth from the hot chocolate and cozy clothing settles in around them, enveloping them like a warm bath and making Blaine feel like he’s floating. No world exists but this man in his arms. He flexes his toes to remind him of the ground below, to keep him from evaporating into nothingness. He never did put on those socks. He drops his hands lower, coming to Kurt’s hips, and digs in his fingers to draw them closer together. Kurt lets out a breathy gasp next to his ear and the sound goes straight to Blaine’s groin. “You feel so good to me honey,” he says.

Blaine moves his hands around to Kurt’s ass, resting there, the waffle-textured fabric tickling slightly against his palms. Then he grasps harder and pulls Kurt toward him. The movement brings their cocks together. They’re both starting to get hard, and the unrestrictive clothing does nothing to cloak their growing erections.

“Oh god _Kurt_ , you feel so, so good to me.” Blaine starts running his hands all over Kurt’s ass. Kneading and rubbing and grasping the round muscles. He holds on tight while thrusting his hips forward and grinding into Kurt’s cock, turning his head to kiss Kurt on the lips. Kurt is breathing heavily now, mouth open. They are no longer dancing. Blaine kisses him heatedly, licking into his mouth while softly nipping along his lips. His hands continue to roam, over Kurt’s ass and thighs and hips and back again. “Baby, you’re so beautiful.” Blaine whispers right against his mouth. “So strong and so very beautiful.”

“ _Blaine_...” Kurt is hardly moving, but he digs his fingers into Blaine’s shoulders, flexing and releasing, flexing and releasing. “ _Oh god_ , Blaine.”

Blaine grabs onto the lower curve of Kurt’s ass with one hand and brings the other around to palm at his cock. Kurt’s length feels hot and impatient under his hand. And very hard.

“Blaine.” Kurt pants against Blaine’s neck. “Jesus.” He throws back his head, exposing his neck. Blaine continues rubbing Kurt’s cock while moving in to kiss along the newly accessible expanse of skin. Kurt is barely holding onto his shoulders, his eyes squeezed closed and mouth gaping open. One hand drops down to his own cock. He rests it there alongside Blaine’s hand, but his grip is loose and he simply moves with Blaine’s motions.

Blaine loves Kurt like this. He’s lost to it, openly wanting more and comfortable in his desire. It’s so different from when they were first dating seven years earlier. When they were both tentative and unsure. Images flash through Blaine’s mind of other times they’d been together in this kitchen. He remembers helping Kurt as he prepared Friday night dinners or holiday meals. He remembers Kurt’s aprons -- he often wore his mother’s old ones. He remembers drinking coffee leaned up against the counter, playing cards at the kitchen island, stealing kisses in the pantry. He remembers how unexpectedly hot and bothered he felt after watching, for the first time, as Kurt moved around the kitchen in a lace-trimmed apron making dinner. He was strong and masculine, focused and completely at ease, and wrapped up quite literally in a floral bow. He remembers wanting to drop to his knees to worship him. Push him up against that counter, lift the front of the apron over his head and make his boyfriend come down his throat in the family kitchen.

A new song comes on.

_Birds flying high you know how I feel_  
_Sun in the sky you know how I feel_  
_Breeze driftin’ on by you know how I feel_

Blaine smirks. “Are you feeling good, honey?”

Kurt brings his head back to level and opens his eyes. His hair is askew and his cheeks are even more flushed and pink than before. “Yes,” he breathes out. “Yes. _So good_.”

“There’s something I want to do,” Blaine says.

“Mmmmm, what’s that?” Kurt nuzzles his nose against Blaine’s cheek and kisses his ear.

“I want to blow you in this kitchen.” Blaine kisses him on the mouth. “I want to push you back against that counter.” Kiss. “And suck you.” Kiss, kiss. “Lick you and touch you and feel you.” Kiss. “And make you come in my mouth.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. 

Kurt moans. His chest is heaving. “Make you feel so good.” Blaine kisses him open mouthed, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him in.

Blaine sucks Kurt’s bottom lip into his mouth and looks into his eyes, now open and staring, and moves him backward the few feet toward the kitchen island until they bump into its edge. Then he drops to his knees. 

On his way down Blaine drags his hands heavily over Kurt’s thighs. He curls his fingers inward, feeling the strong muscle beneath the shifting fabric. He strokes up and down Kurt’s legs as he presses his face into Kurt’s hard cock. He inhales deep and closes his eyes, relishing Kurt’s scent, the anticipation, this feeling. Kurt’s hidden strength is so obvious like this. Not just in the power of his long, lean legs, but in the way he stands tall and proud in his own body; in the way he lets Blaine take him apart, confident they’ll put each other back together again.

“Blaine...” Kurt drops a hand onto Blaine’s head, and it rests there, heavy and flexing sporadically against his scalp. “Blaine, please...” 

Blaine looks up. Kurt’s head is once again thrown back and his eyes closed, mouth open as he exhales toward the sky. He’s beautiful. Blaine stretches his hands up to run over Kurt’s chest, watching and feeling as it heaves with arousal, then he brings his hands to Kurt’s waistband, and with a hard tug, pulls everything down.

The movement causes Kurt to pitch forward and grasp Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine steadies him with sure hands. Kurt is biting his bottom lip and looking down. “Oh, sweetheart,” Kurt whispers. It comes out quiet and breathy.

“I’ve got you,” Blaine responds, then licks Kurt’s cock. He swirls around the head, taking in the sharp tang of precome and dipping his tongue into the slit. He kisses down the side, tracing a large vein all the way to the base, then slowly laves along the crease at Kurt’s thigh. Kurt is getting noisier, breaths escaping in loud puffs. Blaine buries his face in the coarse pubic hair and mouths at the base of Kurt’s cock, relishing the sensation of hair against his lips and tongue. It would be unpleasant any other time, but here, it feels intimate and private and dirty in the best way. Above him, Kurt starts running both his hands through Blaine’s hair, then grasping behind his ears and pulling him in tighter. “Blaine, _please_.”

Blaine pulls his head back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I know,” he says. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” Then he sinks his mouth over Kurt’s cock. He slowly pushes forward, taking him in deeper and deeper with each move of his head. He concentrates on the way Kurt’s cock feels in his throat. The way it fills him up. Silky. Hard. Warm.

“Ohhh yes. _Ohhhh_.” Kurt murmurs brokenly. Blaine can see his arms stretched out to the sides and he is holding tight onto the edge of the kitchen island. Light catches his wedding band and the glint makes affection flood Blaine’s chest. This is his husband moaning above him. This is everything he wanted as a horny teenager, pressing this boy up against the counter (onto a bed, into a closed door), yet didn’t know he could still have as an adult. This is sex and love and tenderness and lust. And he gets to have it all because they’re still them. Two years into marriage, they’re still unequivocally _them_. Their desire for each other is as strong as ever.

Blaine slows his movement and swallows around Kurt’s cock, once, twice. The tightness causes Kurt to thrust forward with an “ _ahhhh_!” 

The sudden movement makes Blaine gag and he pulls back to breathe and refocus. “Yeah...that’s it,” he says. “I know you want to bury yourself in me.” 

Blaine glances up as he licks along the hard ridge at the head. "Yeah I do," Kurt says, looking down at him now, his hair falling messily over his forehead. Blaine loves this. He loves everything about having Kurt’s cock in his mouth. Being on his knees. Listening to Kurt’s sounds above him. This is powerful and giving; uncontrolled and contained. It is so different from what he thought it would be when he was a young boy discovering what gay sex meant, surreptitiously watching the videos he could find online. It didn’t look enjoyable then. It looked like only one person got off in those interactions. He was so pleased, years later, to discover that was far from the truth. He loved having Kurt in his mouth. He thinks, for a moment, of his own cock, hard and wanting beneath his loose sweatpants. 

Kurt takes his hands from the counter and digs them into Blaine’s scalp. “Blaine…” Kurt thrusts his hips forward, causing his hard length to rub along Blaine’s cheek. “ _Please_ …”

Blaine smiles, shakes himself out of his thoughts, and draws the tip of Kurt’s cock into his mouth, messy and wet, all tongue and saliva. He sucks hard on the head and Kurt lets out a desperate gasp. He does it again. And again, moving down the shaft with each hard suck.

“Huuuuhh...oh yessss.” Kurt lets out a breathy moan. This time the feeling is immediately overwhelming. His mouth stuffed full, nose buried near Kurt’s abdomen. Kurt’s sounds escalating with the crescendo of horns from the stereo. 

He brings both hands around to Kurt’s ass and pulls his hips toward him, moving in time with his mouth. He loses himself to the rhythm of it and focuses only on the cock in his throat. The way it nudges along his tongue and the roof of his mouth. The spit leaking onto his chin. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh baby yes.” Kurt is babbling now and thrusting weakly. Blaine moves his mouth faster. He sucks deeper. Squeezes his hands tighter. Flexes his tongue up and down. He floats along with nothing but Kurt’s warm skin and increasingly frantic cries keeping him grounded to reality. 

With one hand still on Kurt’s ass, he dips his other hand into his sweatpants to grasp onto his own hard cock.

The relief of his strong grip after being worked up for so long momentarily causes him lose his concentration and lean heavily into Kurt. He groans, then quickly adjusts and resumes his rhythm. He works the fingers of his left hand into the crease of Kurt’s ass and grabs on hard, running his fingertips up and down. Kurt’s thrusts begin to speed up. His moans are now a constant stream of noises. “Nghhh, yes, yes, uh, _uh_ , Bl…”

Their moans, their movements, it all begins to blend together. Blaine’s arousal sparks along his skin. It lights him up from within, and makes him yearn for more, more, more. He wildly bucks his hips forward as he continues to jerk off. Everything is getting very wet. Kurt’s cock and pubic hair are covered in saliva, Blaine’s cock leaks over his fast-moving hand. His chin is soaked. Their coordination has slipped into disarray as they both chase their orgasms. Both lost to the pleasure. He floats along, weightless and overtaken by the buzzy feeling of his oncoming release.

Blaine can feel Kurt start to come just before it happens. The muscles in Kurt’s thighs and butt tense up and he stills his movements. Blaine holds onto him tight and slows his mouth. A couple seconds later, he feels the rush of warmth shoot down his throat. “Oh Blaine!” Kurt’s voice cracks as he comes. Bitterness coats Blaine’s mouth and he pulls off so he can swallow. He drops messy kisses on the tip of Kurt’s cock and down the softening length, still holding tight onto Kurt’s ass while whispering. ”Oh baby. So beautiful. So strong. All mine mine mine.” He keeps kissing at the shaft.

Then his hand, which had paused on his own cock, resumes its movements. “Yes, sweetheart, come on me,” Kurt encourages him from above. Blaine rests his head against Kurt’s groin, inhaling the sharp scent there, not caring about the come getting on his cheek. He mouths somewhat uselessly against Kurt’s skin as his hand flies fast, fast, fast over his cock. 

“Huh, huh, huh.” Blaine is reduced to monosyllabic panting. He is so close. Kurt’s hand falls to his head and grasps at the hair on the back on his neck. “Want to hear you Blaine,” he murmurs. “Want to feel you. Come on. Come on.” Kurt tugs at his hair and twists, just as Blaine is brushing his thumb over the head of his throbbing cock.

“ _Ahhhh_!” Blaine comes hard with a soft cry. It paints over Kurt’s strong calves. He slows down, breathing heavily and milking the last of his orgasm. He lets go of his cock and immediately brings both arms around to hug Kurt’s thighs. There’s come everywhere. On his face, dripping down to Kurt’s ankles, hand-printed onto the backs of Kurt’s thighs. The long johns are pooled at Kurt’s feet and Blaine looks down and watches as white tendrils of come soak into the fabric.

“Damn,” Blaine says. “The long johns still are hot.”

Kurt laughs. “Come here, you,” and pulls him up by the arms. “Kiss me.”

Blaine stands up and presses his lips into Kurt’s. It’s slow and surprisingly tender given the taste and scent of semen that takes over.

“And now I really do have to get out of these clothes,” Kurt says, waggling one of his ankles to the side, legs trapped awkwardly in his wrinkled long johns and briefs.

“I can help you with that,” Blaine says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt swats him on the shoulder. “You _just_ came you dirty dog.” But he steps out of his pants and extends a hand to Blaine.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go clean up with a hot shower.” Blaine scrambles to follow.

Yes, they’re definitely making it through life now. Every day. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic almost three years ago, then got busy so it sat half written on my computer. Decided to clean it up and finish it over my holiday break this year. It has been awhile since I've written any fanfic. It was nice to be back with these boys. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
